A Mandalorian Story
by UlfhedinnPanzerlied
Summary: I had the idea of writing from an Old Republic Era Mandalorian perspective while playing Star Wars Republic Commando a while back. This is the fruit of my labor.


"Five minutes to drop Vod!"

I went over the Bes'uliik's systems one final time; Tail end stabilizers in the green. Forward shockwave generator rods in the green. Concussion and shatter missiles in the green. Pulse-wave cannons in the green. And lastly the beast-machines' massive claws were always in the green.

It shifted slightly as the dropship moved into place for the drop; as if also anticipating this descent into the void of space and onto this festering wound in the galaxy. It wasn't my first drop by any means, and certainly not my first drop on a Bes'uliik war droid, but there's always a quiet anticipation, a dead silence both within yourself and surrounding you. The veteran and more experienced ori'vod in my clan called it ramikadyc, or being so completely focused that you've essentially become a Mandalorian commando, in spirit and mind, if not in deed and title. The other Mando'ade went through their checks and individual rituals as well; and despite being a part of a supreme warrior culture we all had something that we used to fight off skanah. It was one final reassurance against the chaos, terror, glory, and honor of warfare.

The hatch door light flashed yellow and the klaxons blared as the hatch itself opened up; the hiss of atmosphere leaving the hold and ice particles spread all throughout space. This was the moment we've all been waiting for, the red and green trails of light along with the white and yellow flashes of explosions in the distant fleet engagement; the rushing anticipation of a combat drop onto a hostile world, where any moment will be your last. A stray turbo laser or wayward missile could spell your doom; even our own Bes'uliik were known to throw a rider from the mount if its owner was careless with that sacred trust.

"Mando'ade! We live for honor and glory! To prove ourselves strongest in the entirety of this galaxy! Win or lose, we will fight and die for the honor and glory of battle and our people! For Mand'alor!

"For Mand'alor!"

All of us, living for these moments, shouted our happiness and defiance of death into the void. Those poor wretches on the ground won't know what hit them. The light went green, and we commanded our droids to disengage the mag locks from the belly of the dropship. The descent onto this backwater world was just like any other, filled with the unvoiced thoughts as you were forced down to the surface by the planet's gravity. Our armor and mounts searing with the heat of entry into the atmosphere. There was no feeling quite like it in my many years of fighting; and it is an experience I feel that will never be outdone. An explosive concussion to my right jolted my Bes'uliik backward too far and our flight path was compromised. I was lucky, but even so I willed my mount on, our many drops together unblemished by something as trivial as a slight course correction. The burning atmosphere gave way to free fall to the planets surface now. Tracers from the ground batteries and flak grew more intense as my traat'aliit altered their courses to avoid the worst of the defensive fire. Our objective were those gun batteries which sought our lives, and we've become quite adept at handling the danger.

"Formation Kom'rk, spread out on my signal and surround these emplacements. Traat'aliit Naast will hit their uplink arrays, Traat'aliit Kad will hit their ammunition and power storage. My Traat'aliit, Orar will go straight for their command and control. If we time this right the rest of the Mando'ade will arrive shortly and we can setup a landing zone.

The ground fire picked up and seemed to concentrate on our formation. If I break too early, we'll lose momentum, but if I break too late, they'll be picking most of us up off the ground in buckets. 5...4...3...2...1...

"Disperse"

With practiced and well learned precision, we broke apart and went toward our objectives. The purpose of this maneuver was to give the enemy a target, and fool them into thinking they taken us out. With all of us huddled together, we look like a falling ship rather than a cluster of droid mounted warriors; and when we break apart, we then appear as debris falling to the ground. This tactic has served us well on Drastaal V and Onduro VII, so there's no reason to change it now. I ordered my traat'aliit to separate further and land at predetermined landing areas. I willed my mount to open fire as we made our way to a clearing near the defensive walls, firing a salvo concussion missiles into what appeared to be a barracks. This distraction was needed for my landing, and it worked like a charm; complete chaos erupted as scrambling shapes emerged to pull out their wounded and put out fires that broke out. My mount and I bucked back to let the guiding thrusters help the landing and we landed in a bombardment crater. I disengaged myself from my Bes'uliik and went up to the lip of the crater to observe any movement. The anti-aircraft batteries still firing into the sky, with soldiers seemingly oblivious to what awaited them on the ground. Shapes moved back and forth frantically calling out with sirens blaring; noting to myself that we appear to be in the clear, I slid back down the crater and re-engaged myself with my mount. We moved up the crater and bounded across a field to the defensive wall under one of the main turrets.

"Traat'aliit Orar, activating locator beacon, converge on my position and engage the enemy at will; we'll work our way to their command and control area and wipe them out."

Affirmative clicks resonated within my helmet as I waited for my vode to get into position. The chaos of the landscape was not lost on my as I waited. Tracers ever firing upward in futile defiance of death, with explosions and smoke billowing from other areas of the planet due to the bombardments. This is what we lived for, to fight for the thrill and glory. To test ourselves fully to find out just what we are capable of. Two pings notified me that my traat'aliit has moved into position. 5...4...3...2...1...

Oya!

My Bes'uliik leaped up to the wall and clawed its way upward, pulse-wave cannons fire close by to let me know that my vod had engaged the enemy. We crested the wall and lunged into the thick of the fighting. Terrified shapes scattered at our assault though some found their backbone and stood their ground, as short as it may have been. The locals were blasted apart with cannon or torn to pieces with the claws of our mounts. One vod, Hayar I believe his name was, was thrown from his mount by a lucky rocket strike. His bes'uliik bounded in front of him in a defensive stance and vaporized the unlucky local with a salvo of missiles. All around us, although outnumbered as we were, these locals were cut down before us. I heard premature shouts of victory in these younger warriors, full of zeal and thirsty for a real challenge.

Kote!

It may be, but we haven't finished our objective yet, and there are others still counting on us. Hayar, get off of your backside and mount up, we need to move out.

An affirmative went through, though I could sense a hint of wounded pride at being forcefully dismounted. We regrouped and moved as a pack toward their command and control section. I ordered three vod to take flight and provide low level aerial cover for our advance as we fought through their paltry defenses.

Alor'uus Skirata this is Traa'taliit Kad, we've destroyed ammunition stockpiles and have secured the area. Awaiting further orders.

Alor'uus Skirata this is Traa'taliit Naast, uplink arrays are down and guns are now out of sync. Awaiting further orders.

Affirmative Kad and Naast. Proceed to predetermined landing zone coordinates and secure the location for our main forces.

We moved and killed our way further to their command and control center. What little resistance we did meet was usually met with overwhelming firepower from our bes'uliik war mounts. There would be time to recognize their defiant spirit after this short battle was won, for we always recognize bravery, even if it comes from an enemy combatant. We came upon a sealed door, in what seemed to be a hangar. I willed my bes'uliik to charge its' shockwave generator rods to melt a hole through that armored shell; and as the first blast rang out, another shook my left flank and I was thrown from my mount. Uncoupled and angry, I looked for the location of this attacker but found he had already been destroyed by return fire from the rest of my vode. I ordered three of my traat'aliit to dismount as we moved in to secure the objective. The others would hold the perimeter against any counterattacks and relay any information relevant to us from the war effort. Leveling my assault rifle I swept left with one vod, Ghes, while the others, Scarn and Tem swept right.

It's often an ironic thing, thinking in a war, with simple mistakes that can end your life, that you'll somehow be vaporized before you even make planet fall. Even more gut tightening than that thought, is the thrill and anticipation of close combat. This command and control station wasn't as large as we were led to believe, and the narrow corridors didn't leave room at all to find cover or maneuver. These were the moments that put me on edge the most, for any second could be that split decision between a projectile or blade in your heart, and survival. Even worse to think that a grenade would come bouncing down this passage to ruin our lives. Shaking the thoughts from my head we finally reached a widening area with power cables running into an adjacent room. Motioning to Ghes, Scarn, and Tem, I moved forward and placed a breaching charge on the door and waited. 5...4...3...2...1...

The charge ripped open the door and we went into the breach, blasting everything in sight; computers, generators, cables, and most importantly, the locals squirming around inside. Unfortunately for me it appeared that I kicked a nest of Gundarks since it seemed that this also acted as a secondary barracks.

Scarn, demo, now!

Without hesitation he bounded forward and threw a timed explosive charge onto a cluster of explosive looking objects, and we ran as fast and as far as our legs could carry us. We barely made it out of the passage before the flames caught up to us, but thankfully we only escaped with scorched armor. Affirmative clicks sounded in my headset from the rest of Orar, notifying me that the objective had been secured. It seems the mess we made on the inside forced the rest of the locals to flee out of the main building, it's too bad they were all gunned down. Though I suppose if I were in their boots and had the choice, I would have picked a death out in the open over being crushed to death by tons of rubble.

Well done, all of you, now let's regroup with the others and await the main arrivals.

Mando'a Translations:

Vod: brother, comrade, mate (friend) (vode: (plural) brothers). Pronunciation: [vohd]

Bes'uliik: basilisk war droid. Pronunciation: [bes-oo-leek]

ori'vod: big brother, older brother. Pronunciation: [oh-ree-vohd]

ramikadyc: commando state of mind - an attitude that he/ she can do anything, endure anything, and achieve the objective. Pronunciation: [rah-mee-kahd-eesh]

Mando'ade: sons and daughters of Mandalore. Pronunciation: [mando-ah-day]

Mand'alor: sole ruler, title earned by the strongest of the Mandalorians. Pronunciation: [mahn-dah-lor]

skanah: much hated person or thing. Pronunciation: [skah-nah]

traat'aliit: squad, team. Pronunciation: [traht-ah-leet]

kom'rk: gauntlet. Pronunciation: [kohm-or-rohk]

orar: thunder. Pronunciation: [or-ahr]

oya!: many meanings: literally *Let's hunt!* and also *Stay alive!*, but also *Hoorah!*, *Go you!*, *Cheers!* Always positive and triumphant. Pronunciation: [oy-ah!]

kote: glory. Pronunciation: [koh-tay]

Alor'uus: corporal. Pronunciation: [ah-lor-oos]

kad: sword. Pronunciation: [kahd]

naast: destroyer. Pronunciation: [nahst]


End file.
